


I See You

by noire06



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Fix-It of Sorts, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Violence, Persona 5: The Royal Spoilers, but definitely nothing graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:27:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24518425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noire06/pseuds/noire06
Summary: In which Goro Akechi tries to get past Akira's masks, only to find he may not have been as prepared for what was underneath as he thought.
Relationships: Akechi Goro & Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 7
Kudos: 215
Collections: Quality Persona Fics





	I See You

**Author's Note:**

> Hoo boy, first fanfic AND it's been a while since I've written, please be gentle.

“Why are we here, Joker?”

It wasn’t as though Goro was completely opposed to the jazz club or anything; on the contrary, the smooth music and relaxed atmosphere made it one of the few places that he actually enjoyed. No, the problem was the boy sitting across from him, fiddling with one of his black curls in a nervous gesture that Goro couldn’t quite place as intentional or not. Even after everything, he felt like he couldn’t quite get a read Akira, like there was something important he was hiding.

It was rather infuriating.

“I’m just checking in with everyone,” Akira said, switching his fiddling from his hair to the glass in front of him. “You may not need it,” he added when Goro narrowed his eyes, “but you are part of the team now.”

Goro snorted. “I’m not a part of your merry band of thieves. We just have a common goal.”

“Sure,” Akira replied with a nonchalant shrug, grey eyes flicking up to Goro and back down before he added, “although I don’t think that’s quite true.”

God, he hated him. Classic Akira, thinking he knew everything. His hands clenched into fists and he grit his teeth, resisting the urge to just punch his unassuming face in; Muhen had been nothing but pleasant to Goro, and he certainly didn’t deserve to have clean blood off his floors just because Goro couldn’t help breaking Akira’s nose. 

“Why don’t you cut the bullshit and tell me why you’re really here?”

Akira’s brows furrowed just a bit in confusion. “I just did.”

“I’m the least of your worries when it comes to dealing with Maruki. I have the resolve and the skill, and we both know it.” Goro said, leaning just a bit over the table. “So why aren’t you checking on one of your friends? You had to pull them out of their dream worlds yourself, and they actually like you.”

Akira flinched. It was just a small movement, one that most people would have missed. But Goro Akechi was not most people, and he was always watching Akira, possibly a little closer than he’d like to acknowledge. 

“Oh, what’s this?” Goro smiled, edges of it knife sharp and dangerous. “Could there possibly be trouble in paradise?”

Akira stared at the table for a moment longer, struggling with some sort of internal debate. When he finally looked at Goro again, he looked him dead in the eye, a small frown on his face. “Is it so hard to believe I want to spend time with you?”

Oh, victory was a sweet feeling. If Akira had dropped his unassuming mask and was finally being direct, then they were actually getting somewhere. “Ignoring your masochistic urge to spend so much time with someone who obviously hates you,” Goro said, willfully ignoring Akira’s exasperated stare, “I thought I said to _cut the bullshit_.”

“Akechi.” There was a slight warning in Akira’s voice, but Goro didn’t care.

“Come now, _Leader_ ,” he spat, more than a little vindictive. “Do you honestly expect me to just believe you enjoy being around me, after all the things I’ve done? I’m not that naive.” 

Silence. Goro seethed, pushing away from the table and to his feet. “We’re done here. You know how to reach me when you actually decide to do something productive.” 

Before he could storm off, however, a hand shot out and clasped his wrist. It wasn’t so tight that he couldn’t break away if he tried, but it was surprisingly tight for someone as closed off as Akira. He stopped, looking down at the hand with narrowed eyes.

Another beat of silence -- Goro could feel his eye twitch -- and Akira let out a breath through his nose. “Fine.”

“What?”

“Fine,” Akira repeated, rising to his feet with that obnoxious cat-like grace. “We’ll do this your way.” He dropped Goro’s wrist and strode toward the exit, steps sure and confidant like he had no doubt that Goro would follow after him.

He hated that he was right.

He caught up to him outside of Jazz Jin, where he had stopped to say something to Morgana perched on the wall.

“Sure, I can do that, but,” Morgana was saying, and his gaze flicked over to where Goro was scowling by the door and back to Akira, “did something happen?”

“No, it’s fine, Mona. We’re just going to talk, and I didn’t want to keep you up.”

“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow. Be careful, okay?” He waited until Akira nodded before he turned and disappeared into the darkness. The two watched him go, a tense air settling around them.

“Let’s go.”

** 

“Why are we _here_ , Joker?”

Annoyance had coated his tone; he didn’t exactly appreciate being led around like this. Akira’s grey eyes stared at him from behind Joker’s mask, but he didn’t answer. At this point Goro felt like the walls of Mementos pulsing around them would be more forthcoming.

“Lavenza,” he said instead, without turning around to look at the Velvet Room attendant. “Can you give us a minute?”

“Of course, Trickster.” And with a flash of blue, it was just the two of them.

“Joker-”

“You wanted to do something productive, right?” Joker said, and his voice was carefully blank, showing no emotion for Goro to grasp onto. “Let’s fight.”

“Do you have a death wish?”

“No,” he replied simply, and Goro watched, dumbfounded, as Joker took out his dagger and pistol and laid them against the wall. “No Personas, no weapons. Just you and me.”

A bubble of manic, disbelieving laughter escaped Goro - no, Crow - before he could stop it. “You’ve really lost it!” He grinned behind his mask, stepping closer to Joker and running one clawed finger down his cheek. A line of red welled up on his skin, and Crow felt a shiver run down his spine. Joker’s unflinching gaze just spurred him on, and he leaned as close as his mask would allow. “I’ll tear you apart.”

That, at least, seemed to make Joker react; his eyes fluttered shut, only to reopen with that rebellious, cocky gaze he was so known for. “You can try.”

It wasn’t a pretty fight. Crow’s hand clenched in Joker’s jacket and, with a shift of his weight, he tossed him over his shoulder. He managed to tuck into a roll, but no sooner was he on his feet than he was tackled around the waist and the two fell to the ground in a flurry of limbs. 

“You,” a punch, “goddamn,” an elbow to his stomach, “bastard!” Crow spat words with each strike he made, but Joker said nothing, focus entirely on giving as good as he got. Their tumble eventually settled with Crow on top, sitting on his hips to prevent any leverage and pinning his hands to the floor. Joker had several scratches from his gauntlets on his face, but Crow could feel a black eye already forming.

“I hate you _so fucking much_ ,” he said, leaning down into Joker’s space. Each word dripped venom. “You’re so stupid, challenging me when you’ve seen what I can do.”

A smirk crept across Joker’s expression, and Crow only had enough time to narrow his eyes before he did something with his legs and their positions were suddenly reversed.

“You- How-”

“Lessons from Sumire. I’m pretty flexible, you know?” He said with a wink. Crow grit his teeth, red entering his vision, but Joker pressed against him even harder to prevent any movement. “Sorry, Crow, but it’s your turn to listen to me.”

“I don’t care about anything you have to say,” he said, turning his head to the side.

“Not what it sounded like at the club, but whatever you say. Guess I’ll just talk to the walls and you can listen if you want, then.”

“You-”

“You know, Mementos, we’ve been through a lot together. Let me tell you about this insufferable prick that I know,” Joker said, tone upbeat and conversational.

“Joker,” Crow said. It was a warning, but Joker just rolled his eyes.

“A few months back, you see, this asshole thought it would be a great idea to sacrifice himself to save a bunch of people he supposedly hates. These people were touched, of course, but one of them-” Joker paused, dropping his charade to glance back down at Crow, and that gaze, soft and hurt, was all Akira. “One of them was angry.”

“Some things had happened between them, but somewhere along the way, the angry one had realized the asshole was the only one who knew the true him. The only one who had seen past all the masks to the real him, not just the leader his other friends made him out to be. And once the prick was gone, the angry one noticed-” Joker took a deep breath, ducking his head until his face was hidden and his forehead rested on Crow’s chest. He’d long since let go of Crow’s wrists, hands resting gently on his shoulders instead, but Crow still couldn’t find it in himself to move.

“He noticed he missed him. Far more than he should have.” There was a moment of silence before Goro groaned, reaching up to push his mask off so he could glare at Akira.

“Stop being so evasive. It’s annoying.”

Akira laughed, quiet but still there, and shifted to meet Goro’s eyes. “I learned from the best,” he said, teasing, but his heart wasn’t in it. A small smile crept onto his face, gentle but sad. “I missed you, you asshole. That’s why I spend time with you.”

Before Goro could even reply, Akira pushed himself to his feet and strode toward the stairs with a slight limp. “Don’t worry,” he said, pausing long enough to send that same sad smile back over his shoulder, “I won’t consider this our rematch.”

The sound of his footsteps had long since faded by the time Goro sat up.

** 

Three days later and Goro watched Maruki walk out the door to Leblanc, leaving an ashen-faced Akira in his wake.

He’d been afraid of this.

“I need to speak to Akira,” he told Morgana, and though the cat took a moment to glance between the two, he nodded before dashing up the stairs. Akira managed to pull himself out of the booth, but he couldn’t bring himself to meet Goro’s eye.

“Akechi-” It was hardly a whisper, but it was enough to set Goro on edge.

“Don’t give me that. I don’t want your pity,” he spat, but Akira shook his head.

“But you-”

“He was your councilor, Akira! He knows exactly what he’s doing trying to dangle my life in front of someone with a savior complex as wide as yours.”

“It’s true though, isn’t it?” Akira asked, and when he finally looked up, all Goro could see was grief. 

Grief.

“Don’t you dare,” he said, eyes narrowed and anger radiating off his words as he advanced toward the other. Akira took step back, apparently shocked, but Goro kept pressing forward. Once Akira’s back hit the wall and his eyes widened, realizing his mistake, Goro jabbed a finger at his chest hard enough to make him flinch. “Don’t you dare do this now.”

Akira stared at the finger, that same expression still in his eyes. “But you’ll-”

“So what?” he snapped, clenching his fist in Akira’s shirt as if he could shake the sense back into him. “I’m already dead, Akira! Are you really going to fold over something so trivial?”

“This isn’t ‘trivial’!” Akira finally said back, raising his voice in a way that Goro hadn’t heard before. There were tears gathering at the corners of his eyes - which Goro definitely had never seen from the calm leader of the Thieves - but the hands that came up to clutch at his were firm. “I won’t let this happen. I won’t lose you again.”

Wrong answer.

“Not everything is about you,” Goro hissed, grip tightening on Akira’s shirt and his knuckles whitening. “I won’t let Maruki manipulate me in whatever dream world he envisions. I won’t be controlled again!”

“Akechi-”

“Don’t you get it? I would rather die again than be someone’s puppet.” They stared each other down for a moment, equally determined. “Tell me your answer.”

“We’re stopping Maruki,” Akira said without hesitation, and Goro blinked in surprise. It must have shown on his face, since Akira nodded. “We’re stopping Maruki,” he repeated, “but I’m not letting you disappear, either.”

Of course. Goro growled low in his throat, but Akira just grinned. “You said Maruki was trying to manipulate me, right? I can remember when I denied his reality the very first time, though it felt like a dream at the time. Yet you’ve been here this whole time.”

While it made some sense -- as much as anything could in this messed-up reality, anyway -- Goro scowled. “You’re grasping for straws.”

“Maybe, but I’ve worked with less,” Akira replied with a shrug. He smiled, reaching up to rest his hand on Goro’s cheek in a move that made him flinch. “I will save you, Goro. Trust me.”

Maybe it was the determination in his voice, or the reassuring touch (when was the last time he’d been touched so carefully?), but Goro couldn’t find it in himself to keep protesting. He just felt so tired. With a sigh, he closed his eyes and let his head thump on Akira’s shoulder. 

“Do whatever you want.”

**Author's Note:**

> It's still 6/2 here (barely), so happy birthday Akechi! Tumblr is tellmeastori, come check it out if you want to see me being sad over fictional characters.


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